The Most Amazing Christmas Gift Ever
by McMuffinDragon
Summary: Denmark bought the best Christmas gift ever. Unfortunately, he also chose the best hiding place ever as well. Denmark/Norway, with Iceland, Finland, Sweden, Sealand, and Germany for .002 seconds


Denmark sat in the middle of his kitchen; all the cabinets were open, and their contents lay all over the floor and the counters. He pulled a spatula out from under himself, looked at it for a second then chucked it over his shoulder where it fell on something else with a clatter. "Where'd it go?" He asked the skillet propped up against the oven.

Getting up, he strode into the adjacent dining room, which was in much the same state. Denmark picked up his heavy dining room table, which in his fervor he'd tipped on its side, and righted it. He left the four chairs strewn about. This scattered tidying up extended to Denmark flipping the couch back over and replacing one cushion so he could sit there and try to remember the last place he'd seen the little red box with the blue and white ribbon. He surveyed the book case he'd cleared off and the fireplace he'd tried to climb up into and had almost gotten stuck in.

The Nordic nation make a few disgruntled sounds and looked over his shoulder to the small yard with about a dozen newly patched up holes. He had determined that the gift hadn't been buried. Picking up another cushion, Denmark placed it under his head and stretched out on the couch. Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes until he saw sparks, he tried desperately to recall the great hiding spot he'd chosen. It was December 22nd.

---

Iceland read the report in front of him and nodded along to what his boss said with the occasional 'yes' or 'I see.' He slowly turned his desk chair around and froze at who he saw in his yard. "Sir," Iceland said through gritted teeth as he glared at Denmark rooting around in his bushes in the early twilight, "Something just came up. I'll call back in a few minutes."

Denmark was less than gentle with the shrubbery at Iceland's house. Although the bushes had no leaves, and it was easy to see if anything was under them, he still pushed the bare branches aside and looked for any traces of red in the dying light.

"What the hell are you doing?" Iceland hissed.

"I'm looking for something that I hid," Denmark replied matter of factly without turning to look at Iceland.

"In my yard?" Iceland snarled, balling up his fists and trying not to punch Denmark's ass as it swayed to and fro while the rest of the nation rooted around in the snow.  
"Yes," Denmark sounded as though he was the one being inconvenienced here and should be left alone to continue looking. The box wasn't here, he decided. "Your stupid penguin probably ate it." The fact that he had said that out loud was right behind the thought itself. Without looking at Iceland to see if he'd heard, Denmark beat a hasty retreat. Iceland shouted something, and a ball of ice and snow struck the back of Denmark's retreating neck.

---

This was completely ridiculous, Denmark thought as he started on the office. It wasn't here; why would he hide it here? He opened a desk drawer. It was worth a try to at least to take a look.

Denmark didn't know how long he spent there, but he wound up sitting in the desk chair watching centerfolds tumble out at him. There were a few with dogs on the covers that he'd passed over on purpose.

The front door opened, and Denmark could hear voices downstairs. Cursing, he folded the magazines as neatly as he could and slipped them back in the drawer. Someone was coming up the stairs. Denmark looked around frantically; he was too big to hide anywhere in here.

After fumbling with the window, Denmark dropped down into some bushes beside the house. He scaled the high wooden fence around the house and ran.

Germany was puzzled to find his office window open; he walked over to it and could see the shape of a man running down the road.

---

Finland settled into bed with Hanatamago in his arms and Sweden by his side. The children of the world had their gifts; he could relax now.

It barely seemed like he'd slept at all before Sealand was bouncing on top of his "parents," begging them to get up and go downstairs to open presents. Finland tried to pretend that he could sleep for a few more minutes as Sweden heaved Sealand onto the floor and told him to "g' back t' bed."

After another five minutes, both of them felt guilty enough to get out of bed.

Sweden and Finland descended the stairs after Sealand jumped down two at a time, ignoring Finland's calls that he would trip and break something.

The sight that beheld them in the living room certainly couldn't be called a Christmas Miracle. The neat little stack of presents that Finland had left under the tree was strewn all about, and something on the other side of the tree shook the branches. The little family stood by the stairs; Sweden put a protective arm around his wife and a hand on Sealand's shoulder. The brief sense of danger stopped and was replaced by aggravation as Denmark emerged from behind the tree and jumped at the sight of other people in the house.

"Uncle Denmark!" Sealand cheered, making a move to run to him, but Sweden pulled him back. Denmark gave a chuckle and a nod to his "nephew" before realizing exactly why Finland looked so upset and Sweden might kill him.

"Um," he glanced around at the presents, then started picking them up, "I can explain; you see, I--"

"G't out," Sweden grunted.

"What?" Denmark looked up with something shaped vaguely like a firetruck in his hand.

"Out," He repeated clearly.

"Uh, okay," Denmark headed for the door, but Finland stopped him.

"Can I have those presents back?" He asked in a strained tone. Denmark looked down at the bright mounds of wrapping paper he carried and dropped them in Finland's open arms. He ruffled Sealand's hair on his way out and trotted glumly down the steps.

---

Outside, it was starting to snow; Denmark sat alone in his house in the pitch dark wondering if it was too late to get Norway something else. Sure, it could never compare to the best gift ever, but it's the thought that counts, right?

A soft knock on the door made Denmark jump. He rushed to answer and crashed into a table, two chairs, and a door frame on his way to do so. Norway's blank pale face greeted Denmark as he turned on the light above the front door and tried to act casual.

"Oh, hey, Norge," Denmark said coolly, leaning against the open doorway, pretending it wasn't freezing outside, "What brings you here?"

Norway silently held out a red box with blue and white ribbon tied just so to look like a Nordic Cross. Denmark stared at it with wide eyes. "Is this yours?" Norway asked after pulling his scarf down slightly.

"No, I mean, yes, I mean, it's a present for you, but yes I--how did you get it?"

"The glove compartment of someone's car is not a good place to hide secret presents for him," Norway replied flatly, still holding the box out to Denmark. The taller man took it and dusted the snowflakes off the bright paper.

"I still want you to have it," Denmark said, offering the gift back, "Merry Christmas."

Norway took the present back; he gently removed the ribbon and the paper and practically threw them back at Denmark, who caught them with a smile. He opened the box and took out the best present ever.

"You got me a jar," Norway deadpanned; he glanced at the lid, "with holes in it."

"No," Denmark replied with reproach, "It's a-a," He couldn't believe he had to explain this, "it's a Fairy Catcher." Norway didn't say anything, but Denmark could read the little nuances in his face: the shift in how his eyebrows sat above his cobalt eyes, the faint twitch in his lips, that was a hard one to catch.

And though Norway said that he was an idiot and left without another word, Denmark knew what he really meant.

---

Omake:

Denmark woke on a late spring morning and lumbered downstairs. On the kitchen counter, he found a jar with holes poked in the lid. Under it was a note saying simply Caught one for you. Denmark picked up the jar; he couldn't see anything in it, and the jar didn't feel any heavier.

He unscrewed the top and felt something brush his cheek. Denmark touched his face gently and looked around. He put the jar down on the counter and began rummaging around to make coffee.

Then, there was a noise like a little bell going off again and again. Denmark looked around, still nothing to be seen. He followed the sound and paused next to a window. Whatever Norway put in the jar, if he actually put anything in the jar, wanted to get outside.

"Hold on a sec," Denmark muttered to something that may or may not have been there at all. He opened the window and felt something ghost over his hand; the same little touch that he could've been imagining.


End file.
